March 30, 2008

Denise Kelsall

Easter 2     Low Sunday     John 20:19-31

What are we gonna do – quick, lock the door – don’t let them know we are here – did they see you – what happened. What the heck is going on – we saw his body – he was dead on the cross a couple of days ago and his body was in the tomb, but Mary said she saw him – Yeah, he’s been seen again, alive … what’s going on.

Sure, we thought – hoped – that he was maybe the Messiah, the king, the promised one but look what happened – You didn’t see him today did you – nah – give me a break. In this reading from John the disciples lock the door because they are frightened, confused and anxious.

Fear is perhaps the most basic human instinct. We are creatures of survival, of what is termed the ‘fight or flight’ syndrome. This recalls our primeval ancestry which holds that when faced with danger, predators or the threat of imminent death our human response was flight – if we were hungry or protective enough our response was to fight.

The disciples are afraid. They are marked as being intimates of this crucified rabble-rouser Jesus and are therefore suspect. They hide behind locked doors to talk about what has happened.

In spite of evolving over many millennia humans are still guided or ruled by fear. Generally this is right and necessary – we don’t walk in front of moving cars as we are afraid of being run over – we mostly try to live within our means as we are afraid of losing what we have – we try to love and be kind to those we care about as deep down we are afraid of losing that love, being rejected isolated and alone. These sorts of fears are usually automatic and protective mechanisms and they oil the wheels of our society and give life together shape and comprehension.

It is a different sort of fear that the disciples experience. They have consorted with an enemy of the state. Jesus, a Jew who publicly condemns Temple politics. For this he was put to death. Their leader and friend Jesus challenged the power and norms of culture and society of the time. He was, I believe, a revolutionary. I also believe that this wild and revolutionary Spirit is still alive in his followers if we but choose to listen and to act.

Most people would agree that Jesus was a spiritual revolutionary who sought to bring people to a new relationship and understanding of God and themselves, and this is what the church has largely concentrated upon. The outward workings of this new spiritual relationship could be said to reveal Jesus the social revolutionary in that his vision is based on egalitarian principles of human engagement. These demand the restructuring of unjust institutions and structures that have no regard for people’s lives and trade in unhealthy fear. There has not been a huge fanfare for Jesus the political revolutionary though, and this angle is generally eschewed by the church and Christians alike as it is perhaps too direct, too challenging, too divisive, too frightening. Seeing Jesus as a political revolutionary who actively opposes oppressive political structures could be just a bit too big, too demanding and alarming.

In this reading we are in a locked house, a house that smells of fear. Jesus comes among the huddled and fearful disciples and pronounces ‘Peace be with you’ twice. Like God in the Genesis story, Jesus breathes upon them and they are given a new Spirit. Eight days after the first appearance Jesus comes among them again. This time he comes to reveal himself to Thomas who was absent when he first appeared and needs convincing. He gives the peace blessing once more, and indicating his wounds Jesus says to Thomas – “put your finger here – reach out your hand.”

The central message is that Jesus comes to unlock their fears, to allay their dread, to change the disciples lives, our lives, and the world forever. To their fears Jesus says – “Peace, forgiveness, put your finger here, reach out your hand.”

Fear can be an awful thing – crippling - paralyzing – gut-wrenching, and it can make us hide, lie to ourselves, fabricate stories and to act in cowardly and despicable ways. It can express itself in silence and in rage and violence. We all lock doors in some ways to keep ourselves safe. But this always comes at a price.

I think that the price is real wholeness. Wholeness is a sort of hackneyed buzzword that means something like undiminished, complete or whole. I am not talking about perfection here – we are by nature fractured frail and crazily wonderful people. We laugh and we cry, we fight and hopefully we forgive. I think that when Jesus offers the disciples peace, forgiveness, the vulnerability of touch and care he offers us too a recipe for wholeness – an open recipe to help us overcome and transform our fears, to enable us to grow and expand our visions, our worlds.

 The text tells us that this transformation is wrought through the Holy Spirit which Jesus breathed upon these first disciples. It is a Spirit that changes hearts, minds and relationships within the mandate to mutual blessings of peace, forgiveness and caring for one another. It is not about individual piety but in following the way of Jesus which is at once collective and political. The Peace blessing that we share in each Sunday here and all over the world could understood as Jesus saying – “hey people – this fear thing, get over it, there’s a better way to be.”

On a caring level this transformation of our fears asks us to “reach out your hand” to those we find hard to understand, to those living meaner lives than ours, to the “other” the different, the rejected, the disadvantaged, whoever and whatever they may be.

In the 21st century we are asked to ‘put our finger there, reach out our hands’ to those who suffer globally – politically to try, to speak to place our finger to help bind up wounds and to reach out our hands to help others towards the justice they need. Here the wounds of Christ are seen in the blood of gory battle, the Aids victim, the starving, the persecuted, this polluted and devastated earth we are part of.

Christianity has ever been an incipient faith. A faith that is embryonic with possibility and this continues today as we wrestle with our world and the fears spoken and unspoken we all live with. Loneliness, violence, hatred, economic, social and gender injustice – you name your own, there are so many and we all combat these in ways big and small in our own lives. Like the disciples we cannot necessarily rid ourselves of the causes of the fears and ills that assail us. However, we can, in some measure, through this mysterious gift of the Spirit, work together and pray our way towards a future where noxious and destructive fears are transformed into courageous and revolutionary hearts minds and actions. You bet.